


Just a cut

by Lady_Elwing



Category: Charloe - Fandom, Revolution (TV)
Genre: "father" and daughter bonding, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Self healing, War, Wounds, cuts and bruises, self soothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 14:49:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10192316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Elwing/pseuds/Lady_Elwing
Summary: After a battle against the Patriots, Charlie is tending her wounds. She is also thinking about all her non-physical wounds and trying to make sense of them. Some elements of Charloe are suggested but it's mostly about Charlie, and the Matheson & Monroe family in general.





	

“It’s just a cut, really.“ Charlie heard herself say the words out loud. Connor nodded and went to check on his dad. She could feel the blood seeping out and sticking to her jacket, but she didn’t make a move to take it off.

Those words were still ringing in her ears. They were her own words, she had repeated them countless time to soothe herself. The first time she did was after her father died.

It’s just a cut, really. Cuts always heal and they don’t leave a scar. Maggie used to say something like that. Who would have thought losing her would slash through her skin?

Danny died in front of her. Another gash, A deep one, the deepest perhaps.

Nora was so good, so strong… The scar was fading away. A sliver only. Nora was a trail blazer, role model. And she was gone. Another slash, longer this time. Just a cut, Charlie, just a cut. Mom might help, mom is just a mother who doesn’t give a damn about her own daughter. Will this cut ever heal? Will her skin ever become iron platted?

Killing off what destroyed her in the first time would help. Charlie shook her head when she thought about her hunt to find Monroe.. .Bass. She saw him standing in the distance, talking to Connor. The scar was thin, fine. Just a cut, a long long time ago. She was all patched up now, stronger for it.

She saw something in the shadows, a familiar face, and she was gasping for air. Jason! Died in her arms. So much blood, so much pain. It couldn’t be just a cut… Could it? The blade had stuck into her skin, breaking off from the handle. It was just a cut, a constant pain that could never fade. Shards that would forever stay under her skin, in her bloodstream, creeping closer and closer to her heart.

She sat down by the campfire. She didn’t know half of the faces around her. She could hear Miles barking an order. Was it Bass contradicting him? Didn’t really matter. They were all back from another successful raid against the Patriots. Victory was good enough for tonight.

She gritted her teeth as she took off her jacket. Sometimes she wished that they never won. What would happen once the patriots were gone? What would fill the darkness…? The emptiness. What would keep the cuts out of her mind? What would cover her scars? What would she do? All she knew was how to fight.

She peered at her arm in the dim flickering light. Yeah. Just a cut. Well.. A deep cut that needed to be cleaned up. There were no infirmary on the field. They were their own doctors. One of the recruits had some medical training, something about his dad being a doctor before the blackout. But he was busy with the people who were truly injured. Charlie took out her knife and dipped the blade into the fire. She was used to it. She was used to tending her own injuries, cuts and bruises.

She barely hissed as the hot blade cauterized the injury. She bit into the sleeve of her leather jacket. It hurt but soon it would feel better. Forgotten.

“Captain?“ It was one of the younger recruits. She could see that both Generals were surrounded by people, as usual, probably too busy for the less assertive ones.

“Yeah?“ She croaked out. She needed a drink desperately but her dizziness was increasing. It wasn’t just a cut, Charlie, she reprimanded her self. She lost too much blood. She stood up shakily and gestured to the man to continue.

“My brother.. He.. I think he was left behind. I have to get him back.“

No, no tears. Her eyes were dry as she nodded. She took the bottle of moonshine from his hand and finished it off.

“General Matheson said it was too dangerous to go back.“

“I’ll deal with him.“ She squeezed his shoulder as she made her way to Miles.  It was better to deal with this right away, better than thinking about Danny… Better than thinking about the time when she used to have that same stubborn hope in her eyes. Cuts, wounds, they eventually heal. You even forget about the scars carved into your skin, until you see someone who’s about to go under the knife… Just like you. Charlie swallowed back her feeling as she reached Miles and Bass.

“How you’re doing kid?“

“Connor said it’s only a cut?“ Bass voice echoed her uncle’s concern. Lucky Charlie, she might not know what it was to have an average family, but at least, she did have a pair of Generals, and a Captain who cared. Killing machines with feelings. Strange strange world. She had to take a deep breath, the dizziness was growing.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Hendrickson said his brother was left behind.“

“Unfortunate. Can’t risk more men.“ Miles sounded unconcerned. Perhaps it was the only way one could survive in this endless war. One couldn’t go on feeling. Feelings got you killed. Feeling go you gutted.

“We have to go back.“ She hated how her voice was breaking as she spoke.

“Come on Charlotte.“  Bass was of course in agreement with Miles. They were men of war. Their armor was thick. Did they even still get nipped like she did?  Slashed? Pared into pieces? Dissected into mush?

Of course not. They were Mathson & Monroe. All the Patriots’ children knew their names by heart and had nightmares of these heartless monsters.

“Please.“ Both men shared a look. Miles was shaking his head and looking away. Bass was clenching his jaw, also keeping his gaze away from her face. Were her eyes watering? Damn it. She couldn’t embarrass herself. It had taken years for them to learn to respect her as a fighter.

“At least talk to him.“ She tried again, keeping her voice from shaking.

“Ok.. Alright. Just this once,“ conceded Miles as took a few steps towards the campfire. They all knew it wasn’t just this once. Bass didn’t move an inch, he didn’t look pleased at all. She knew it by the way he was crinkling his forehead. He finally looked at her and she aimed her gaze into his, hoping he wouldn’t see that she was thinking about Danny.

Miles knew, of course. He had known her when she was desperately trying to save her little brother, still dewy and bright. But Bass? He had truly started to know her as Charlotte Matheson, the woman who wasn’t afraid of anything. The girl who wouldn’t stop fighting. Even if any animosity between them had been watered down, she still didn’t like the idea of him knowing that side of her : The Charlie Matheson that had been crushed by his Republic.

“Between you and your… Rachel, you’ve really got Miles walking the line.“ Rachel was just a ghost, long gone before the fight really began. 

She shrugged, “well why don’t you stop him?“

He shook his head, his hand finding his way to her shoulder. “Nah.“ She was no longer feeling dizzy. “Because you’re right.“ He spoke in such a low voice that she wasn’t even sure she heard him. He looked away.

Most of the times, she forgot there had been a man everyone called Bass before General Monroe rose. But tonight, in the wavering light, she could see him as plain as day. Underneath all the blood and gore, young Bass was still there.  She could even see a hint of concern in his eyes but he had walked away before she could react.

Connor was standing at her elbow. He must have been a witness to her taking down both generals. He was looking amused.

“You’ve really got these two under your thumb.“

“Not you too…“ She rolled her eyes.She needed food in her system before she collapsed. She made her way back to the campfire. Someone was mixing up some kind of broth. It smelled foul. But she wanted to be alert enough to help getting back the other Hendrickson boy.

Her arm was still throbbing but she was good at ignoring pain. She knew it would recede. Having warm food in her belly was doing wonder to her body and mind.

Beyond the fire, she could see both Generals talking to Hendrickson. It looked like they were gathering intel and preparing a rescue mission of some sort. It was too dark to see their faces clearly… but she knew they must at least be as tired and beaten as she was. Miles looked a bit bent and Bass was putting all his weight on his right leg. They were also good at ignoring their own pain. After all, she had learned from the best. They were known as the worst monsters the United States had ever seen, but she knew better.

They were no killing machines. They were her family.

Of course they knew what it was too be sliced into pieces…  How else would they understand that she refused to see anyone suffer the same pain under her watch?

**Author's Note:**

> I've previously posted a rough version of this ficlet on tumblr. 
> 
> I might make a series of OS/ficlets based on this version of events but this it for now. I like the idea of a Charlie that doesn't become hard or bitter because of all that she has been through. She has become stronger but hasn't lost her kindness.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it.


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